


Books and Temptation

by Katalyna_Rose



Series: Vhenan and Associated Stories (Lyna Lavellan) [37]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Consensual Somnophilia, F/M, Face-Fucking, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 12:13:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11554989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katalyna_Rose/pseuds/Katalyna_Rose
Summary: "Fluffy prompt: Solas and Lyna "sharing" the same book (but really just gently fighting over it)" promt from @eshidu happened and then became Solas getting really horny and then became Lyna taking revenge on him with another prompt from @eshidu added in! Heavily influenced by the evil incarnate (in the best way!) that is @thema-sal-shiral!





	1. Books

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sit in laps to get what you want...

“Mamae taught me that you can learn a lot from a person’s hands,” Lyna said with a smile as she settled onto the couch in front of the fire and curled against Solas. He hummed, both a question and a sign of contentment, as she gently stole one of his hands from his book. He didn’t look up, let her play as she would. “She said that you can trace the path of a person’s life from their hands.” One finger tickled his palm and he had to struggle not to flinch away from her touch. When her fingernail pressed lightly into the skin of his wrist, just behind his palm, he failed as he fingers twitched. He could feel her smug satisfaction but still did not look up from the page he was no longer reading.

“Ashavise is a wise and caring woman, ma sa'lath,” Solas said mildly, pretending that heat wasn’t traveling up his arm and through his chest from her touch. She could probably tell anyway; he’d never been very good at hiding how she affected him.

Lyna laughed lightly and tugged his arm closer. “You only say that so you never have to be on the receiving end of her wrath,” she accused playfully. He chuckled.

“I have been in the unfortunate position of incurring her anger before, vhenan,” he reminded her. “It likely did not help matters that she was pregnant with you at the time, but I should not have attempted to recruit such a woman in any case. Her faith was too deeply rooted to allow her to face me without fear or anger. It is not an experience I would care to repeat.”

“I never asked what happened that time, how exactly she frightened the Dread Wolf away,” Lyna said musingly, scooting closer to him until she was almost in his lap. He sighed and gave in, pulling her over until she was seated in her favorite spot in the hollow between his crossed legs. She chuckled happily at her victory, but in truth it was inevitable; he enjoyed having her in that spot as much as she enjoyed being there.

“It is not a story I will tell,” Solas told her wryly. If she wanted to know how her mother had chased him across the Fade with threats of vengeance then she could ask her mother and leave the conversation uncertain if she believed any of it despite it likely all being true.

Lyna sighed forlornly and fingered the page of his book, which he had not turned in quite some time. He pulled the book away from her and pointedly turned the page despite the fact that he had not finished the one before. She squirmed in his lap, getting comfortable and exciting him, and the words before him blurred. She took his hand again and traced scars both ancient and recent, detailing the pattern of his life. She kissed some of the deeper scars, the ones that pulled slightly when he flexed his hand. She lovingly traced each and every line and contour, kissed the freckle on one knuckle and touched it with her tongue.

This tiny touch had him panting and excited for reasons unknown. It was gentle and kind and entirely without heat but it made him struggle to keep his hips still and not thrust up against the generous curves of her ass. He gave up on his book after long minutes of her lavish attention to his hand and buried his face in her neck. He breathed deeply of her intoxicating scent and pressed his cheek against her warm, soft skin and closed his eyes and she sighed happily.

“Ar lath ma, ma sa'lath.” He was thinking the words so strongly and loudly that he didn’t realize he’d said them aloud until she turned her head to kiss his cheek and return the sentiment.

“Your hands speak of hardship,” she murmured against his fingers. “They speak of battles waged and wars both lost and won. They are strong hands to carry the world. They are talented hands to paint the most beautiful pictures.” She paused for a moment to suck two of his fingers into her mouth, undulating her tongue to mimic the way her body would clench from the inside, and he groaned as his cock pulsed for her. “Or to bring the greatest pleasure,” she continued after releasing his fingers with a wet pop that made him shiver. Her voice was lower with desire. “They are kind hands to heal the sick and injured. They are gentle hands to play with your son.” She kissed the back of his hand chastely. “I like your hands,” she concluded, a smile in her voice. His breathing was harsh, the book in his other hand all but forgotten as he struggled simply to hold onto his wits with the way she worked him over. She could be so sinful in the purest ways…

Suddenly, the book was snatched from his hand and his lap was empty of a loving elven woman kissing his hand and he blinked hard as he tried to regain his bearings. He looked over to where Lyna was settling into a chair closer to the fire, her eyes on the pages of the book she’d stolen from him. She looked perfectly composed, utterly unaffected by what had just transpired, though he was left breathing hard and needing her, heat coiled in his belly.

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Was that display simply a ploy to steal my book?” he asked her, indignant.

She calmly turned a page. “Yes,” she told him mildly, her voice distant as she focused on the words before her. Then she looked at him with a quick grin. “Though it was all true,” she assured him before returning to the page before her. He sat back and stared at her, shaking his head in befuddlement, hardly able to process what just happened, especially with the way his body still called out for her. She was such a strange one. She was perfect.


	2. Temptation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They both play with fire...

Lyna knew she played with fire when she got Solas riled up just to take his book. But in all fairness, she needed the book more than he did. Still, she felt his bafflement from across the room, and she felt it narrow into intent. She ignored him as he stood and silently stalked her, but he grabbed her chin roughly and dragged her gaze up to his. What she saw in his gaze sent a bolt of lightning into her core and she grew wet for him in a rush.

She hadn’t been as unaffected by her game as she’d tried to seem, but it appeared that he had been far more taken in by it than she had expected. A quick glance revealed that he was straining against his trousers and she swallowed hard. When she started her game, she’d only wanted the book and a little fun, but now, to see his need for her, she wanted more. She wanted him.

And he _needed_ her. She hadn’t meant to leave him yearning quite that badly, but there he was, tight grip on her chin allowing her no escape.

“If you want that book, you will pay for it, ma sa’lath,” he told her, voice low and rough and near the breaking point. She shivered and his grasp tightened even more. He shook her slightly, jostling her mouth open, and his eyes narrowed with intent. Her eyes widened as she realized what he was saying, what he wanted from her. She squeezed her thighs together as the flesh between them began to throb from her intense arousal. 

“Will I, then?” she asked breathlessly, challenging him with her gaze. He leaned down, never loosening his grip on her, and took her mouth in a searing kiss that left her whimpering. Stubbornly, she did not reach for him, kept her hands gripped tightly around the book, but he snatched it away and she heard it clatter to the floor. When he pulled back she tried to chase his lips and a smug smile settled on his features.

“Yes,” he declared, his tone allowing no argument. He stood straight up, forcing her to tilt her head back at an uncomfortable angle to meet his gaze, but she did so without complaint.

And there they remained for long moments as he waited for her to break, his thumb slowly stroking her lower lip and his cock bulging so close to her face that she could feel his heat. He wanted her to take it. She wanted to take it. But they were both stubborn, still locked in a battle of wills. He would not force her to take him, but she would not grant him the satisfaction of knowing exactly how desperate she was to take him. So they were silent and still but for their hectic breathing, each attempting to wait out the other.

She broke first. With a plaintive groan that was _definitely_ _not_ a desperate whine, she reached for the laces of his trousers. He growled with satisfaction as she pulled them free blindly, his grip on her chin still keeping her gaze locked with his and unrelenting. She fumbled, brushing her knuckles against his length, and she watched his pupils blow wide at the sudden pleasure of touch.

Finally, she freed him from the cloth and he hissed in a breath between his teeth. She wrapped both hands around his length and pumped slowly, her eyes never leaving his.

“You spoke of my hands, vhenan,” he said suddenly into the charged silence between them. “Shall I speak of yours? Return the favor, perhaps?” She said nothing, simply continued to stroke him slowly, building his agony. She would not break again, would drive him insane until he broke for her. She was determined. “This silence of yours speaks volumes, ma lath,” he told her, amused. “Your hands are a huntress’s hands,” he continued. His fingers, the ones that weren’t trapping her face, traced gently along her hands as they stroked him. “They have known battle and they have known peace. They have known blade and bow and pen. Your hands protect above all else.” Suddenly, he gripped her wrist to arrest her motions and leaned down towards her again. “But sometimes they also torture,” he growled over her lips. Suddenly, he yanked her chin down, forced her mouth open, and fed his length between her lips.

She cried out in surprise at the sudden move, but he stopped with only the crown inside, waiting for her reaction. She was pleased; he broke for her and she wanted to reward him. With a pleased moan she opened wider to take him deeper. He shuddered and released her chin to thread his fingers through her hair as her lips met his groin, nose pressed into his skin, throat opened to allow his length within. She couldn’t breathe but that was fine. She swallowed around his length and a startled cry burst past his lips. His hands in her hair tightened, pulling the pale strands painfully as he kept her there, kept himself rooted within her mouth as she swallowed for him again. When she began seeing spots, she tapped his legs and he allowed her to pull back. She sucked in quick breaths, almost gasping, and cut off the apology he began by sucking hard on his length. He groaned from deep in his chest and rolled his hips forward slightly, testing. She gave little moans of encouragement, her fingernails biting into his hips as she held him close, held on tight.

She moaned around him to taste the sweet and salty precum she wrought, her tongue swirling under the hood of his foreskin to lap it all up, and his control broke all at once. His hands fisted in her hair pulled tightly as his hips rocked forward forcefully, his length forcing itself down her throat again. His breathing was harsh, hectic, moans on each exhale to drive her wild as he thrust into her mouth.

She was trapped, his hands in her hair preventing her from fleeing the hard thrusts of his hips. There was a thrill to it, beyond the pleasure of his pleasure and the addictive taste of him. She was completely at his mercy in this moment, subject to his whims, but not without power as she pressed her tongue against him at just the right moment to make the fit just that much tighter. He cried out and shuddered under her hands, then suddenly pulled her forward and buried himself deep within her. She felt him come, hard, pulsing pressure against the back of her throat and a vague bitterness on the back of her tongue. It went on for a long time, but finally he was spent.

She sucked hard as he pulled out, drawing every last drop out of him. There was a wet pop when he was released from the pull of her lips that made them both groan. They were both breathing hard, though he calmed faster than she did. He crouched before her, sated and pleased. She smiled dreamily, dizzily, at him. He leaned forward and gently kissed her lips, then pressed something hard and cold into her hands.

“You have paid for the book,” he told her with a wicked smile. Then he stood and tucked himself away and wandered back to the couch to pick up a different book.

She blinked stupidly at him for a while, her saliva thick in her mouth and still dribbling down her chin. His taste at the back of her mouth had her wet and aching for him, yet now that he was satisfied he seemed content to leave her as she was.

 _“What?”_ she finally cried, her overworked throat protesting speech. He merely smiled, eyes on his book, and did not respond.


	3. Retaliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyna plays the long game...

Lyna was left aching and empty and desperate for release, almost reduced to begging, but Solas would not be swayed from his overtly comfortable position on the couch, so Lyna began to plot. A few words to her mothers and suddenly Ashavise was terribly ill and needed her beloved daughter to keep her company. Deshanna was frantic since her new duties beyond Keeper of clan Lavellan would keep her away long into the night and she couldn’t be there for her wife when she was ill, but was comforted by the knowledge that at least her daughter was there.

The two of them thought it was a delightful game, helping their daughter get back at her lover by keeping them apart for a while. They had played similar games together in years passed and thought it was quite amusing.

She managed to persuade Solas to at least heal her sore throat.

“If you won’t satisfy me, then you can at least undo the damage,” she told him, pouting and only slightly exaggerating the strange hoarse quality of her voice. He sighed, guilt slightly twisting his lips, and trailed his fingers up her throat, leaving healing magic in the wake of his fingers that quickly soothed the ache. Still, he kept himself aloof and refused to give in to her.

That night, she stayed with her mother, sleeping on a couch in her room. By the time she returned to her own room, Solas was dressed and getting ready to leave for business, as she’d planned. Still, she pouted and feigned disappointment.

“But vhenan, I did not even get to sleep beside you,” she reminded him. His lips twisted with distaste for that situation. “Can’t you put off the meeting for just an hour?” She knew he couldn’t.

He pulled her close and kissed her sweetly. “I cannot, ma sa’lath,” he told her, as expected. Then he frowned. “I had thought you would still be displeased with me after our games yesterday,” he mused.

She rolled her eyes to hide her intent. “I want you now!” she told him. It was not a lie. He shivered and kissed her again.

“I want you, vhenan,” he murmured against her lips, seeming on the very edge of control before he abruptly pulled back. “But I must go.” And he all but fled from the room. She grinned to herself and went to tend to her son in his crib.

She caught him in the hall as he left the meeting with his agents. She received polite smiles and nods from each agent, all of whom she’d made a point of meeting and speaking to, as they filed past. Solas frowned when he saw her waiting in the hall. He opened his mouth, likely to question her, but she cut him off with a kiss. She pushed him into the shadows and pressed him against the wall, devouring his mouth. His arms slid around her as he met her ferocity with desperation, taking her mouth hard. She worked to loosen the ties on his trousers, her hands nearly crushed between their bodies. He moaned into her mouth and shifted to give her better access, and she finally slipped a hand inside and grabbed him. He gave a choked moan as she swiped a finger through the beads of moisture already forming on the head and used them to lubricate her motions. She gripped him strongly and pumped her hand hard and fast. Her other hand clutched his shoulder, keeping him close, allowing him no escape between the press of her body at his front and the wall at his back. She did not free him from the confines of his trousers and felt her wrist grow weakened quickly from the strain of stretching the fabric as she handled him.

He was breathing hard, his fingers clutching her ass desperately, kneading her flesh as she brought him closer, her lips never leaving his. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, fucking her with it desperately. He rolled his hips into her hand and she knew she could make him come just from this, in a public hallway with only one hand and her mouth on his.

Footsteps echoed from the end of the hall and Lyna stopped moving. She tore her lips from his and cast a nervous glance towards the sound. She’d been expecting it since the hallway they were in was often used, hardly private, but she feigned disappointment as she removed her hand and slipped out of his grasp.

“No,” he choked out as he clutched at her, but she flashed an apologetic smile and all but fled down the hallway, swaying her hips more than was necessary. Her plot wasn’t finished yet…

She was “unavailable” for the rest of the day until it was time for dinner. She knew he wouldn’t have the opportunity to relieve any pressure during the day, though she found a moment to herself to do so. It wouldn’t do for her to lose control of her lusts and thus lose the game, after all!

He greeted her at dinner with a kiss that was none too chaste, a bit inappropriate for such a public setting, and she was pleased with her efforts. Though she was far from finished. That sat beside each other, their son tended to by Deshanna while Ashavise was still “ill” and thus did not attend supper. Lyna intended to bring her a tray of goodies and some wine for them to share after she ate.

As she ate, she allowed her hand to wander up Solas’s leg. His motions became tense and agitated as he ate and pretended that she wasn’t squeezing his inner thigh and brushing her knuckles along his hardening bulge. When she finally put her palm over him and squeezed, he dropped his spoon. Lyna pretended nothing was amiss as she chatted with Deshanna about possible remedies for Ashavise’s “illness.” Solas didn’t say a single word during the entire meal. He looked for her when it was over, likely to drag her into the nearest empty room and fuck her senseless. Yet she slipped out the door with her loaded tray of food and sweets and wine and grinned to herself as she retreated to her mothers’ room.

She left him alone until midmorning, despite his attempts to find her. He would not be so rude as to interrupt her time with her mother, but if she went anywhere he was seeking her out the entire time. She finally let him catch her in another hallway and had his pants down around his hips almost before he could blink.

“I miss you,” she whispered up at him as she fell to her knees. He only groaned as she took him into her mouth an sucked hard. He was already completely hard for her, ready and likely aching. She would have to be careful not to finish him. She whispered praise and love in between licks and kisses all along his length and he leaned back against the wall for support. None of what she said was false, but she would not allow him to finish yet. Though he had most likely found his release with his own hand at least once during the night, she knew he would not be satisfied with that. He longed for her body as she longed for his, but the intent of her game kept her in control; she would win this.

She had him right on the edge, moaning her name with his hands in her hair when she heard the approaching footsteps. The timing could not have been better and she froze from the sound.

“I don’t care,” he groaned at her, tugging at her hair. “Please, just finish me.”

“No, no, Solas!” she said in a panicked whisper. She stood and roughly tugged his trousers up despite his protests. She tied the laces clumsily, her hands shaking with adrenaline. “We can’t be caught like this!” she reminded him urgently, her panic only half-faked, and fled down the hall.

He caught her unexpectedly that evening as she was attempting to bring more food to her mother. She hadn’t been planning to attend dinner at all and let him wonder and grow more frustrated, but suddenly she found her tray plucked out of her hands and set on the floor and then she was pinned against the wall just down the hall from her retreat and Solas was between her legs and thrusting desperately against her. And she gasped and clutched him and rode him because she was nearly as desperate as he was. 

“Solas,” she groaned as he kissed her neck and sucked the skin between his teeth. He rocked his hips even harder against hers, found the exact right angle, and pressed against her clit through their clothes. She gasped and saw stars.

“Lyna, I need you,” he whispered, voice hoarse and broken and desperate. Both of them were accustomed to having sex at least twice a day, and now with more than two days since they’d last had sex her body was crying for him with almost painful intensity.

“Solas, I have to… My mother…” she tried to protest, but his lips silenced her.

“Come to bed,” he growled against her lips. He kept grinding on her, both of them completely clothed, and it was maddening.

“I can’t,” she gasped, trying to collect herself, trying to deny them both for just a little longer. He growled, his hands on her body proprietary and possessive.

“Come to bed,” he demanded again, commanding her. She trembled and wanted so badly to let him sweep her up into his arms and take her. But that was exactly why she had to remain strong against him. She had to remind him that she was not to be ignored, that she was his equal.

“No,” she told him firmly, and he finally let up. She put a hand on his cheek and kissed him once more, though the haze of need made it difficult to pull away. She bent at the waist to pick up her tray and sighed with pleasure when two hands grasped her ass as a result. She straightened and turned. “You can handle it,” she told him- and herself. “Just a little longer.” She turned her back on his pleading expression and shut herself away with her mother, forcing herself into composure rather than continuing to shake with need.

The next morning, she was ready to give in. She knew he would have the morning free and without their little game they likely would have spent it as a family with their son, reading and playing games with him. Instead, their son had been handed off to his grandmothers just before dawn and Lyna was entirely ready to give them both the release they desperately craved.

When she entered their room, Solas was still asleep. He was naked, as was their habit for sleep in part because it made life simpler when they reached for each other in the morning, but his sleep was not restful. He was laying on his stomach, moaning pitifully as he thrust unconsciously against the mattress. It seemed to provide no relief, however, because he soon flipped onto his back with a groan, still unconscious. She grinned, heat already pooling in her belly at the sight of his naked body, only half covered by the sheet.

She slipped off her dress and left it in a puddle on the floor. Then she gently eased the sheet down and off. He groaned at the cool air in the room as it brushed over his painful-looking erection. He was so hard he was turning purple with need and Lyna felt a pang of guilt for leaving him in such a state, but she pushed it away. She would make it up to him this morning.

She crawled onto the bed, careful not to jostle him, and pulled her hair back over one shoulder to keep it out of the way. At the first touch of her tongue against his straining cock, Solas moaned loudly and thrust his hips up to her. She smiled and gently kissed all down his length. Each testicle was lavished with careful attention and she was sure not to wake him, not yet. He was groaning constantly and leaking a steady stream of moisture by the time she was ready for him. She straddled his hips, careful not to touch him, and took a moment to study him. He was glorious, skin shining with a thin layer of sweat, brow pulled together in frustration, his cheeks and ears pink from sleep and arousal. His hands searched the sheets where she normally lay and he grew more frustrated when he found nothing there. Gently, she gripped his cock and held it at the proper angle. Then she slowly slipped it inside.

She was so ready, the time apart having driven her nearly as insane as it had him, that he slid inside with ease. She sighed at the feeling of fullness that she had missed so much, at how right it felt to have him within her body. He cried out as she took him to the hilt and finally woke with a gasp.

“Vhenan?” he said hoarsely, seeming disoriented. She rocked her hips and he gasped again, his hands flying to her hips.

“You have the morning free,” she reminded him. He nodded wordlessly. “Let’s spend it like this.” He groaned and thrust up beneath her, bouncing her on his hips.

“Yes,” he groaned, though whether it was in response to her words or to the feeling of her cunt gloving his cock she couldn’t be certain. “I have missed you,” he told her.

“You deserved it,” she told him with a smile as she slowly rocked her hips. His eyes managed to focus on hers and then narrowed.

“It was a game,” he said, suddenly sounding alert and very, very dangerous. She grinned. “You planned it all. The interruptions, the frustration, everything. You did this on purpose. Is your mother even sick?” She shrugged, still grinning, and he snapped.

He surged up beneath her and flipped them. And just like that she completely lost control of the situation. He pounded into her, taking her harder than he ever had before. He held her knees together and pressed them against her chest as he fucked her with all his strength.

“Is this what you were after, vhenan?” he snarled at her as she cried out with each thrust, so hard and at just the right angle to make her see stars every time. “Did you want to break me?” Somehow, he increased his pace until she had no hope of keeping up at all. “Did you want to torture me?”

Her hands scrabbled for purchase in the sheets and found none. “S-Solas!” she cried desperately, the pleasure as intense as pain. The position, with her legs together, made her even tighter than usual, and her hungry cunt sucked him in with each thrust and refused to let him go as he withdrew only to plunge back into her waiting depths. He could drive himself deep from this angle, stimulate that perfect spot deep inside her, and she was quickly losing her mind.

Yet when she was at the very edge of release, when a single thrust would tip her over, he withdrew entirely, leaving her body to clench desperately around nothing at all. “No!” she cried, reaching for him. “Solas, please!”

“Tell me why,” he demanded, breathing hard, something feral in his gaze that made her whimper.

“Because you _ignored_ me,” she admitted, her voice small and her reason sounding so pitiful now that it was final spoken aloud. “Because you left me aching and wanting. _Again.”_

He blinked, some of the fervor subsiding as he frowned at her. Then he closed his eyes and sagged as he understood. He released her legs and took her face in both hands.

“Lyna, ma sa’lath,” he murmured reverently, and tears pricked her eyes at his apology. “You are my only love, my light, my happiness, my heart,” he told her, his eyes fixed on hers. “I never meant to make you feel unwanted.” He kissed her deeply, sweetly, passionately. “I want you more than you could ever know.”

“Then _fuck_ me,” she demanded, still trembling with need. “We can sort out the rest of it later, but I _need_ you, vhenan!” He smiled at her, heat returning to his gaze. He sat up and gathered her legs again, then plunged inside to the hilt in a single thrust that made them both cry out. He quickly found that same insane pace, pounding into her with feral intent. He claimed her body, caging her with his arms as he thrust as deeply as he could go with each roll of his hips. It took only moments for her to find her peak, but he kept up the punishing pace even as she screamed and milked him and clutched desperately at his arms.

It went on and on as each thrust tickled that place within and the pleasure continued until she thought she would burst. Then he slipped out of her and it allowed her to come down a bit, but he merely moved her legs off to one side, keeping them together, and entered her from a new angle. Her legs were pressed into the bed, her hips turned to the side though she remained on her back, and from this new position he took her all over again. He leaned over her and took her head in one hand. He lifted her face up to his and kissed her deeply as he thrust.

His hand found their joining and the hidden bundle of sensitive nerves in her folds. He touched the hardened nub, pressing on it, circling it with a finger, and she shattered again with a scream. She heard his cry as he followed her down, pumping his seed deep within her.

They were both shuddering when they finally finished. They remained as they were for a moment, just breathing together, before he slid out of her and gathered her up in his arms. He held her close as she shook and trembled from more than just her orgasms.

“Ar lath ma,” he told her, his voice hoarse and shaking. He shook as much as she did and it comforted her to know how affected he was. “I will not ignore you again.”

“Then it was a success,” she mumbled against his chest, feeling her eyelids drooping. He chuckled, a low rumble that shook her.

“You could have discussed it with me,” he reminded her. She grunted.

“That doesn’t always work, you stubborn idiot,” she muttered. He tightened his arms around her.

“I’ll work on it,” he promised as she drifted off to sleep.


End file.
